Guess Who's Coming to Hogwarts
by Ihavenoshitstogive
Summary: Through negligence, Albus Dumbledore has lost the Chosen One. DO NOT POST ON ANY OTHER SITES
1. Chapter 1

**ONE**

Screams and savage growls rent the night in a peaceful, sleepy neighborhood in Surrey. Lights up and down Privet Drive came on in the houses as people ran to their doors, flinging them open to see what was causing such a commotion. They all gravitated to number four, cries of shock and horror joining the din as they watched a stray pit bull savaging something in a basket that had been placed on the doorstep. From the size of the basket, and the sounds emanating from within it, most had surmised correctly that there was an abandoned baby trapped inside, being mauled by the vicious dog. Petunia flung open her door, staring down in horror at the animal, who seemed intent on killing the child on her front porch. She cried out, hands covering her mouth, barely catching a glimpse of emerald eyes in the faint light of the surrounding streetlamps. The screams grew weaker as the blood flew, and finally someone came forward with a stick to try and beat the animal off of the child. Vernon, his face slack with horrified shock, stepped back into his house, grabbing the mace that he kept for emergencies. He returned to the door and sprayed the chemical directly into the dog's eyes, driving it off into the night as it screamed in pain.

He was too intent on chasing away the menace to care that some of the spray had been aspirated by the infant as he gasped in. The child barely had enough energy to cough out the stuff, his lungs locking up as he struggled to breathe. The baby began to squirm feebly, his face reddening as he suffocated, and his magic reacted to the danger, scouring his lungs of the foreign substance and allowing his airways to clear. He gasped in a great whooping breath, drawing eyes to him in curiosity, before they turned away, horrified at the mess the dog had made of the boy's face and hands.

Mrs. Figg, who had been alerted by Dumbledore that he was going to drop Harry Potter off at his relatives' house, fled back inside her home as she heard the sirens from the police and emergency crews in the distance, coming closer. She ran to her fireplace and flung floo powder into the firebox, waiting anxiously as the fire turned green. "Severus Snape's office, Hogwarts," she snapped when she stuck her head into the flames.

"Arabella?" the dour man asked, concerned. "What seems to be the matter?"

"I need you to grab a couple of Healers from St. Mungo's and take them to East Surrey Hospital in Redhill. There's been an accident."

* * *

Mrs. Figg struggled to make her way to the nearby hospital, her progress hampered every few feet by a concerned neighbor who wanted to gossip and commiserate. More times than she could count, she heard the same thing, repeated over and over: _Who did the baby belong to? Why was it left on the doorstep of the Dursleys? Who would be cruel enough to abandon a baby in the middle of the night in the frigid temperatures? Where was his mother? His father? _The most troubling of all, though, was this one thought that kept reverberating in the old squib's mind, repeated often in the frightened words of the neighbors. _Will he even survive?_

Severus arrived at the emergency entrance of East Surrey Hospital with two Healers employed by Lucius Malfoy. He didn't trust that the Healers from St. Mungo's wouldn't report their findings to the Ministry, which in turn would notify Albus, should it involve who he _suspected_ it involved. Arabella met the men and instantly took them back to the surgical waiting room. "I told them that I was his grandmother, and that I had his father coming with some specialists," she murmured as they sat in the hard plastic chairs.

"Could you please tell me what's going on, and how you knew he'd be brought here?" Severus asked softly, eyes wide on the trembling woman.

"Albus told me that he would be dropping Harry Potter off at his relatives' house tonight," she explained quietly. "His idea of 'dropping off' the baby was to abandon him on the doorstep, in a basket, with a note. I wanted to keep an eye on the child, to make sure that nothing happened to him. I would have taken him myself, but I was afraid that Albus had put monitoring charms on the basket to prevent anyone else magical from coming along and snatching him up. I know I'm only a squib, but I also know that I _do _have enough magic to register on his wards. I turned away for only a few minutes; I wanted to get myself a cup of tea. Suddenly, I heard screaming. I ran back to the window and saw a stray dog at the basket. It was savaging Harry. Other neighbors heard the screams as well, and tried to get the beast off of the baby, to no avail. Vernon Dursley was the one to chase off the animal by using mace on it. It was only a few moments, but it felt like an _eternity. _There…there was blood all over the stoop and doorway, and I thought that the baby would _die_ if I didn't get you here as soon as possible.

"The ambulance brought him here because this is one of the nearest hospitals to the neighborhood. His injuries are catastrophic, and the EMTs felt that he wouldn't have survived the long, protracted travel to a larger hospital. At least, that's what they told me as they were putting him in the back of the emergency vehicle. The nurses ran him back to surgery right away."

"How…how bad is it?" Snape queried, feeling queasy. He'd seen just how vicious feral stray dogs could _be_, and was afraid of the answer.

"I don't know," Figg whispered, tears falling unchecked from her eyes. "By the time I got here, he was already in surgery. I tried to ask some of the neighbors, but they were too horrified and sickened to answer. All they wanted to talk about was why he was abandoned in the first place. The nurses wouldn't give me much information, either. They looked nauseated and shocked, so I can only expect the worst. He…he may not survive the night."

"Nonsense," one of the Healers said brusquely. "His magic will keep him alive. After all, no muggle animal could do a significant amount of damage to kill someone magical. It's just not possible."

"You have no earthly idea about what you speak," Severus snapped at the man, making him flinch back. "The muggle world is full of dangerous creatures. Just…just keep silent until you are needed."

* * *

Hours later two doctors emerged from the surgery, covered in blood. Severus instantly stood and confronted them, terrified of what he would learn. "How is he? How is my son?"

"Your son will survive," one of the surgeons snapped angrily. "It's a miracle he lived at all, considering the extent of the damage, and he's lost an eye in the bargain. However, what concerns me more is the fact that you'd left him abandoned on a doorstep in the middle of the night. I've notified the authorities, and they will want to question you, and possibly bring you up on charges." At that moment, two policemen approached the tableau, eyes hard as they stared at Snape.

"If you will come with us? We have a few questions for you." The Potions Master followed, eyes shuttered. They were gone for about an hour before the dark man re-emerged, the two policemen looking at him with sympathy. "It's all right," one of them told the surgeons. "He didn't know that he had a son; the mother had fled when she found out she was pregnant. She didn't want the child, so she abandoned him with her sister. She never even bothered to ensure that the child was safe." Severus silently begged Lily for forgiveness in casting aspersions on her character, even though she went unnamed. He wanted to lay down a credible enough cover story so that he could take Harry back with him to the wizarding world in the morning. He felt a ghostly, gentle hand caress his cheek, and knew he would be forgiven.

"Are you willing to take custody of the child once he's been released?" the older surgeon asked, his voice soft with understanding. He'd borne witness too many times to the results of abusive, neglectful parents in his long career, and could not fault Severus for a situation that was beyond the man's control.

"I am," Snape answered confidently, vowing to himself to care for his best friend's child to the best of his ability. "Please allow me to pay for all services given to my son. I do not wish for you to think that he will not be well cared for. Just give me an accounting before we take him home tomorrow, and I will settle it up. Now, may we see him?" The muggle surgeons looked at the other two men with great suspicion, so Severus reassured them. "These are private specialists that I've brought with me. They've been with my family for a long time, and I trust them. This one," indicating the younger one, "is Dr. Sebastian Cornwall, and this one," indicating the older one, "is Dr. Phineas Heathridge."

"Very well," the younger doctor replied reluctantly. "He's sleeping right now, so please try not to jostle him." Severus followed a nurse to Harry's ICU room, with the two Healers trailing behind. Mrs. Figg, having seen to her duty to protect and watch over the last Potter heir, quietly left the hospital, a prayer to the goddess for the safe recovery of the child hissing from her lips. The men were let into the private room and over to the crib. It took everything Severus had not to break down in tears as he saw the results of the mauling.

Tubes protruded from several wounds, with a sickly rust colored drainage dripping into a bag attached to the side of the cot. The child also had a nasal canula, pumping oxygen into his lungs and helping him to breathe easier. Harry's face had deep lacerations over his forehead and on his cheeks, and his lips were swollen and bruised. Stitches covered his face, making it look like a patchwork quilt. There was a line of stitches along his hairline, as well; it seemed as if the dog had tried to _scalp_ the baby. The little chest was also littered with sutured wounds, some looking very deep, and both hands were brutally savaged. It would be a miracle if he would ever be able to hold a wand. Remarkably, the baby's legs were untouched; perhaps they were swaddled tightly enough in the blankets to avoid the attacking dog's teeth.

The three men stared down at the baby, the Healers horrified at the condition of the brutalized boy. They were silent for a time, waiting until all the activity of the muggle nurses had finally subsided before Healer Cornwall brought out his wand. Severus pulled his own wand and cast silencing and privacy wards at the doors and around the room, to prevent anyone from interfering. Sebastian ran his wand over the inert form, casting all of the diagnostic charms he could to get a complete picture of the health of the infant.

"Well," he said in a neutral voice, "he will recover fully. His magic is, even now, working to repair as much of the damage as possible. He will be heavily scarred, though. Some of the damage has gone too deep for any of our potions or salves to do any good. He will also have to wait until he's older before any efforts to find him an artificial eye can be made. Once he's left hospital, we'll get you the specialized potions necessary to regrow his missing fingers. He'll need extensive physical therapy to get even fifty percent mobility to them, but it will be better than nothing. I'm afraid that he'll never be able to hold or use a wand; however, his magical core is strong enough for him to be able to use wandless magic. You must start training him as soon as possible, so that he will be able to function in the wizarding world."

"You'll be able to teach him glamours," Healer Heathridge contributed, voice quivering. "He shouldn't have to suffer the ridicule and cruelty of the wizarding world because of his appearance."

"That will be entirely up to Harry," Severus replied softly. "Only he will be able to adequately judge whether he can withstand the taunts."

* * *

Alarm bells went off in the headmaster's office, startling Albus Dumbledore out of several years life. He stared at the gadgets and doohickeys littering his desktop, frowning in worry as some of them had stopped working. "The wards didn't take," he mumbled to himself as he stared into a basin filled with liquid as black as midnight. "Hopefully it's just a glitch, but I need to check; to be sure." Rising from his desk, he left the school, apparating to Privet Drive as soon as he moved past the wards of Hogwarts. He landed in an alley near number four, casting his wand over his appearance to change it enough to blend in. He walked toward the Dursleys' home, eyes wide as he saw that the wards had, indeed, failed to activate. As he got closer, he saw Petunia Dursley on her hands and knees on her stoop, scrubbing at some stains with a stiff bristled brush. There were tears on her face, and every now and then he could hear her sniffling. Growing even more concerned, he made his way to Arabella's house, to check in with his spy.

The woman was sitting in her front yard, staring at the approaching wizard with hard eyes. Frowning in consternation at the attitude he was picking up from her, he nevertheless pasted on a friendly smile as he stopped in front of her. "What do you want, Albus?" she barked angrily. Her attitude instantly ruffled the old man's feathers, and he had to breathe deeply for a few seconds to get the sudden surge of anger under control.

"I've come to check up on Harry Potter," he finally replied, a grandfatherly smile firmly in place. "My monitoring devices told me that the wards that I had put into place failed to activate, which had me quite concerned. What has happened here?"

"Because of your neglect," Figg snarled, "Harry Potter was viciously mauled by a stray dog last night. He was rushed to a nearby hospital, where he had to undergo surgery to save his life." Severus had apparated to the squib's house after the doctor's consult and his own visit to the child, leaving the Healers to watch over the little boy. He told her of the extensive damage, and of his plans to take Harry as his ward. Arabella hugged the man tightly in gratitude, glad that her frantic prayer had been answered.

"M-mauled?" the old man queried querulously.

"Yes," she snapped, her rage spiraling out of control. "_Mauled_. As in brutally savaged. As in nearly killed. What the everloving _fuck_ were you thinking, abandoning a helpless infant on someone's doorstep in the middle of a November night, in freezing temperatures?"

"I…I cast warming charms on the basket for his comfort," the old man said. "I…I felt that they would be adequate enough to keep him healthy until he was taken in."

"Why didn't you just _knock on the bloody door_?" Mrs. Figg screeched, attracting unwanted attention. Dumbledore wandlessly put up privacy wards and notice-me-not charms, to keep the muggles from getting too curious.

"I needed to ensure that Harry would be taken in," he answered, starting to grow irritated. "I couldn't risk the prospect that Petunia would've denied Harry sanctuary, had she been approached with the proposition of raising the child."

"So you _knew_ Harry wouldn't have been welcome there, and yet you still wanted to place him with those people? Are you _mad_?"

"His mother's sacrifice guaranteed his protection," Albus said harshly, sick of the accusation in his spy's eyes. The look only served to exacerbate his own guilt, making him exceedingly uncomfortable. "The blood wards would have kept him safe."

"From the _outside_," the squib snapped. "Not from those within the house. At the very least, he would have been horribly neglected. I've lived here long enough to watch those wretched people. They care naught for anyone but themselves, and would have treated Harry very poorly. That is beside the point, however. You didn't even put up protective charms around the basket, to keep harm away from him whilst he lay there, defenseless."

"I didn't deem it necessary," Albus answered with a lift of his head. "I didn't perceive any danger to him in this quiet, peaceful neighborhood."

"That only shows your marked ignorance of muggles, as well as the blatant arrogance that you _always_ know best," Arabella snarled. "Unlike the magical world, where pets are closely watched because of the danger they pose, the muggle world has its share of selfish, thoughtless people who think _nothing_ of allowing their dangerous pets free rein. In fact, many muggles _abandon_ their pets to the streets, thinking that, because they're animals, they'll be able to survive. They give no thought to _how_ those animals will survive, and so they've created everyday dangers. Unfortunately, your _Savior_ became a victim of someone's selfishness."

* * *

Albus arrived at East Surrey Hospital and went up to the front desk. He'd been to several other hospitals in and around the area, desperately looking for the child. Arabella Figg had refused to tell the old man where Harry had been taken; even going so far as to sneer at him before slamming her door in his face. This was the last local hospital on his short list, and he was hoping that the infant had been brought here. "I am looking for Harry Potter," he told the woman behind the desk.

"Are you a relative?" she asked cautiously.

"Yes," Dumbledore replied. "I'm his grandfather."

"Do you have identification to prove that you're related?" she asked softly. She was only doing her job in protecting the patients, but Albus had decided that he'd had enough. Dropping the elder wand into his hand, he cast a wandless _imperio_ on the woman, then repeated his request.

"He was discharged this morning, after the doctors consulted with his father and the two specialists he had brought with him. They weren't willing to let the baby go, considering the extent of the damage done to him, but the specialists reassured them that the child would be well taken care of. They left about two hours ago."

"Merlin, Severus, what _happened_ to him?" Lucius asked, shocked. He was startled the night before when Severus had flooed straight into his Manor, demanding his Healers. Without asking questions, Malfoy had willingly provided them, sure that he would have his answers soon enough. Now he saw why his personal Healers needed to be in attendance, and he was appalled at the condition of the Savior of the wizarding world.

"He was viciously attacked by a stray dog in the neighborhood where he was to live," the Potions Master explained tiredly. "It seems that Albus bloody Dumbledore had abandoned him on the doorstep of Petunia Dursley without giving thought to any sort of protections for him."

"Truly?" Lucius asked incredulously. "Has that man lost what was left of his ruddy _mind_? You don't just _abandon_ a baby like that. There are laws in place in the Ministry, to cover issues like that."

"I know, old friend," Severus murmured, eyes calculating. "I am going to need your help to take full advantage of those laws, so that I may see to Harry's care and protection."

"What do you need from me?"

"I need you to use your influence with the Wizengamot, as well as Minister Fudge, to see that I am granted guardianship of Harry. We will have Arabella Figg testify to the headmaster's callous abandonment of a wizarding child in a muggle neighborhood, as well as her pensieve memories of the brutal attack on the baby. I've the hospital reports, as well as the list of surgeries that had to be performed on him to save his life, and I will submit those, as well as the information from your Healers as evidence to the grievous harm that has befallen the child since he was in Dumbledore's temporary custody. I am sure that they will not hesitate to give over care of the boy to me."

"Are…are you going to raise him to be a Light wizard?" Lucius asked carefully.

"Considering his life experience up to now, I sincerely doubt that there will be anything _Light_ within him. At the very least, he will be decidedly Neutral, edging more toward the Dark. I may not wish to follow the Dark Lord anymore, but I also do not wish to forfeit who I am for the sake of keeping peace. No, I believe Harry Potter will _not_ be willing to sacrifice himself for the Greater Good, once he learns of how he'd received all of the scars and injuries he now has, thanks to that old crackpot's negligence."


	2. Chapter 2

**TWO**

"This special session of the Wizengamot will now come to order," Amelia Bones said quietly. She very gently tapped her gavel on the table, signaling the magic in the room to take hold, warding it for the closed meeting. "We have before us a petition, submitted by Potions Master Severus Snape, requesting full custody and guardianship over one Harry James Potter." She looked at the dark man for a moment, eyebrows rising at the gentle, tender way he held the little bundle in his arms, his eyes never leaving the child's face. "Present your witnesses and any evidence pertinent to this case, so that we may make an informed decision."

"I request that you hear the testimony of Arabella Figg, the squib that was placed in the neighborhood where Harry Potter was to live, to keep watch over him," Lucius Malfoy said with quiet dignity.

"Please escort Mrs. Figg before us," Tiberius Ogden told the Auror assigned to the court. He left, returning moments later with the elderly woman. "Please state your name for the record."

"Arabella Figg," the woman replied softly.

"What testimony have you, that is pertinent to this case?" Ogden asked.

"On the night of November 3, 1991, around midnight, Albus Dumbledore placed a basket, containing Harry Potter, on the doorstep of his mother's muggle sister's house, with a note attached explaining who the child was and what her duties toward him were to be. He then left, casting a warming charm over the basket, but nothing else in the way of protection. I watched over him until the incident. Unfortunately, at around 1:45 a.m., I turned away from the window to make myself some tea, and did not see the animal's approach.

"At about 1:55 a.m., the neighborhood was awakened by the screams of a child, and the snarls of a feral stray dog. I ran to the window, and saw some sort of frantic activity on the Dursleys' doorstep. I exited my house in terror, afraid that I knew what was happening. Many of my neighbors had approached, as well, to see what the commotion was about. The dog was savaging Harry Potter, who was trapped within the basket. Blood was splattering everywhere, and we were all in shock at what we were witnessing. One of the neighbors got a stick, to try and beat the animal off, but it did little good. Petunia Dursley, Harry Potter's aunt, opened her door and stared into the basket as the beast continued to maul the baby. Vernon Dursley, her husband, fetched some mace from somewhere in the house and sprayed it into the dog's eyes, driving it off.

"As I heard the emergency responders in the distance, I ran back into my house and flooed Severus Snape, informing him of the accident and requesting two Healers accompany him to the hospital where I knew Harry Potter would be taken. I did not wish to look within the basket; I was afraid of what I would see. The child was rushed into surgery immediately, and it took several hours for the doctors there to repair the extensive damage that was done to him."

"Thank you, Mrs. Figg," Griselda Marchbanks murmured with a shaky nod. She was pale and nauseous, along with many of the other members of the special session. "If I may ask, why didn't you take him in when Dumbledore left him there?"

"Albus Dumbledore wanted him to live away from the magical world, so that he wouldn't have an oversized ego, due to his 'fame' as the Boy Who Lived. He had assured me that, due to his mother's sacrifice to save him, blood wards were to be erected around the house, to further protect Harry from the Dark Lord's forces. I was only supposed to keep an eye on him, and to report to Dumbledore anything out of the ordinary. As well, I am definitely unsuitable to take care of a child; I have too many animals in my home, and I'm too old to be able to keep up with a toddler. The Dursleys have their own child; Albus was convinced that Dudley Dursley and Harry Potter would get along. He was confident that the boy would be treated like family and loved."

"You don't sound too sure of that," Tiberius Ogden remarked, eyes narrowed.

"I've lived long enough in that neighborhood to know that the Dursleys would have treated Harry like an outsider. They work very hard to put up a front of complete normality; a wizarding child would disrupt their lives too much. Besides, I'd heard from Lily that her sister hated magic, because their parents were proud of having a witch in the family, which made Petunia jealous. She took every opportunity to harass Lily, and call her names. I'm sure that she would've treated Harry with a great deal of hatred, and Vernon wouldn't have hesitated to beat the child, if it would make the magic go away."

Marchbanks nodded her head, then turned to Lucius Malfoy. "Do you have any other evidence to present?"

"I am submitting for your perusal the medical reports from the hospital, describing every injury to the boy as well as the steps taken for the repairs." He stepped up and handed over a sheaf of papers, as well as some parchment. "In there are the Healers' reports also, outlining what needs to be done to mitigate some of the damage. Arabella Figg has willingly submitted a copy of her memories, so that you may see, first-hand, the attack."

"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. We will take some time to discuss this, so that we may come to a fair and equitable decision." Amelia erected a privacy bubble around the Wizengamot, and Lucius watched as their heads bent together to look over all of the evidence presented. Arabella hugged Lucius, surprising the blond, then approached the Potions Master, peering down at the baby in his arms sadly.

"I am sorry that I couldn't do more for you," she whispered to the little raven. His remaining eye opened and looked at the woman, the emerald color clear and gleaming. He gifted her with a tiny smile, easing her heart a little. She patted Snape on the shoulder then left the courtroom, knowing that the child would be in good hands from now on. Back in the courtroom, Severus had not moved a muscle; he continued to stare down at the baby in his arms, dark eyes scanning over the brutalized face with sorrow.

"Don't you worry, child," he whispered to the battered face, brushing his lips gently to the boy's forehead. "I promise to protect you with everything I have. You will never suffer again as long as I live." Harry looked up at the man, almost as if he understood the vow, his mangled hand reaching for the older man's chin. The Wizengamot returned after a time, looking even more pale than before, with a decision.

"We have granted the petitioner full custody and guardianship over Harry James Potter," Amelia Bones said into the quiet. "We will also be placing sanctions on Albus Dumbledore, for his marked lack of care or concern for the child, and his willful neglect of a wizarding infant." She hesitated for a moment, before she spoke again. "May…may we see Harry? After witnessing the memories, and reading the reports, we would like to reassure ourselves that he is all right." Severus stood and slowly walked toward the bench, unwrapping the baby as he went. Gasps rung out from the august body, eyes wide and many filled with tears at the sight of the brutalized little form. "Thank you, Potions Master Snape," Bones husked out, eyes turned away from the damage. "You may go."

* * *

The sutures had been removed, and Severus was patiently rubbing essence of murtlap and dittany into the scars, trying to lessen them a little. It was working, to a degree. Some of the shallower marks were fading, but the deep wounds would always be visible, the scars like crevices in some instances, while in others they were raised, shiny weals. "I am so sorry, Harry," Severus murmured, as he always did when he treated the damage. "I wish there was something I could do for you, so that you would not be so severely marked." The dour man had noticed that the lightning bolt shape had disappeared, having been swallowed by a deep puncture wound, so there was _that,_ at least. However, it was little comfort, considering the reactions the child was bound to receive when he went out in public for the first time.

His right eye socket had sustained substantial injury. The surgeons at the hospital couldn't save the eye, so they had removed it. The eyelid itself had been chewed away, leaving a gaping hole in the baby's face. The Healers had recommended waiting until the boy was five before creating an artificial eye. With no eyelid, however, it would create a frightening, freakish look to Harry. He would already have enough to battle against with his ravaged visage; Snape was loath to give the wizarding world even more ammunition to use against the infant. So he and Lucius had discussed it, and had agreed that they would procure an eye patch for the boy. They had seen the reactions to Moody's magical eye, and didn't want Harry to have to suffer with that. The lad had suffered enough already.

"How are the treatments coming, Severus?" Narcissa asked as she floated into the room. The first time she had seen Harry's devastated little face and torso, she had broken down into tears, muffling the harsh sobs with her hands. Lucius had comforted her the best he could; however, he could understand her reactions, considering that it was a wizarding infant that had been so savaged. When she finally got herself back under control, she took the baby from Severus' arms and cuddled him close, cooing softly to him. The single eye opened, emerald glittering up at the woman, and a small smile broke free from the patchwork that was Harry's face. His lips were still raw and swollen, making the smile look more like a grimace, but Narcissa took it as a good sign, and kissed the unblemished brow over his left eye.

"As well as can be expected, considering," the Potions Master replied softly. Harry had reacted instantly to the woman's voice, battered arms reaching into the air and the remaining digits twitching. She smiled and scooped him up, once Severus had finished treating the scars, cooing and laughing softly as the baby smiled at her. Harry had come to see her as his mum, and she didn't disabuse him of the idea. He'd begun to speak some words; he had called Snape 'dada', and he'd called her 'mama'. When the boy got a little older, Severus intended to explain to the child his role in the infant's life. Narcissa, however, was perfectly fine with Harry calling her 'mum'. She knew that he would have a difficult road ahead, and was willing to offer whatever support, comfort, and shelter she could when the world became too much for him to handle.

"His face looks better," she said as she looked at the boy. "Are we sure that there's nothing we can do for the really bad scars? I hate the idea of him facing the world looking like this. They will not be kind to him, despite his status as the Savior."

"I know, Narcissa," the dour man replied. "The damage done is too great; the wounds too deep. There is nothing to be done for it, except to teach him that his appearance does not matter; that it is his _heart_ which is most important. I think spending time with Draco should help."

* * *

"Oxen and wain-ropes would not bring me back again to that accursed island; and the worst dreams that I ever have are when I hear the surf booming about its coasts, or start upright in bed, with the sharp voice of Captain Flint still ringing in my ears: 'Pieces of eight! Pieces of eight!',"* Severus murmured as he closed the book. The boys were spellbound as the words wrapped around them. As Harry had grown, and to try and ease the child's concerns with his appearance, Severus had taken to reading a great variety of seafaring and pirate stories to the raven. Draco had sat in on a reading one summer Saturday, and was quickly pulled into the world of treasures and pirate ships and betrayal and sword fights. It had become a beloved ritual, and when Harry was five, he was given his first eye patch. It had a dragon embroidered on the surface, and for several days afterward, Draco pouted endlessly, whinging about wanting an eye patch, too. The patch, and every one after that, would be attached with sticking charms, so that it wouldn't slip at the wrong time. The only people to be able to remove it would be Harry and Severus.

The little blond cared nothing for his best friend's ruined face. He loved Harry almost from the start, and had encouraged the deeply wounded toddler to see him as a brother. When Draco had joined Severus and the raven for story time, the littlest Malfoy became the brunet's paladin, doing all he could to ease the way for Harry. Today would be no different. Lucius had told Draco that some friends would be coming over to the manor to meet with him. They were bringing their children along; hopefully, Harry and Draco would be able to make friends, and give the battered child further support once the boys went to Hogwarts. The little blond was cautious; he knew of the families, of their beliefs and opinions, and wasn't sure if children of supremacists would be the best fit for his friend. However, he was willing to give them a chance, knowing that, once they went to school things would be decidedly _harder_.

* * *

"Thank you for coming," Lucius murmured as he bowed his head in gratitude. In attendance were Teodred Nott, Ehno Zabini, Richard Parkinson, Arthur Greengrass, Luther Crabbe, Gregory Goyle senior, Markus Bulstrode, and Justin Davis. "We'll go into my den and have some drinks. Severus will be along shortly; he has some other important matters to attend to." The blond turned and snapped his fingers, smiling when Dobby popped into view. "Dobby, please escort the children to the playroom." Nodding, the elf led the kids away, as Lucius walked in the other direction, with the men following behind. Once they were ensconced in the office, Teodred finally spoke.

"What's this about, Lucius?" he asked softly, looking to the door and nodding a greeting when Severus entered.

"I've brought you all here so that your children could be introduced to my son, and Severus' ward."

"Ward?" Greg asked curiously. "Who would be insane enough to grant you custody over a _child_, Severus?"

"The Wizengamot, actually," the Potions Master snarked good-naturedly. "It seems the benevolent headmaster had abandoned a magical orphan on a muggle doorstep in the middle of the night, leaving the defenseless child wholly unprotected. Unfortunately, during the night, a stray feral dog attacked the baby, mauling him viciously. So Lucius and I took matters into our own hands, and took the child from Albus' lack of guardianship."

"Who is the ch…wait, how long ago was this?" Ehno asked, eyes narrowed. He had his suspicions, but would keep his own council, seeing that Severus was reluctant to reveal who the child was.

"It was nearly seven years ago," Lucius replied for the reticent man. "I will never forget that day, as long as I live."

"How bad could it have been?" Arthur asked softly, seeing the pain in both men's eyes. "It was only a muggle animal, after all."

* * *

"Hi," Greg Goyle junior said as he walked into the playroom with the rest of the group. "I'm Greg, and this is Vince," his best friend nodded his head, "Pansy," a little brunette with blue eyes smiled, "Millie," a soft-spoken girl with long straight hair waved briefly, "Daphne," a girl with long blonde hair ducked her head briefly, "Theo," a dark-haired, dark-eyed boy stared impassively at the blond, eyes flicking briefly to the brunet sitting on the floor, his back toward them, then back to the group, "Blaise," a mocha-skinned boy with tight, curly chocolate hair smiled briefly, "and Tracey." The final girl nodded her head, then all eyes turned to the raven, who still had his back to everyone.

"I'm Draco," the blond introduced softly, "and that's my best friend, Harry." Slowly, the boy stood up, turning to face the new people who had invaded his sanctuary. The girls all flinched away from the child's destroyed visage, Pansy gasping and throwing her hands over her eyes to block out the sight. The boys' eyes widened fractionally, watching as Harry's expression closed off even further, so that no emotion shone through whatsoever.

"Pleased to meet you, Harry," Vince said, stepping forward with his hand out. Startled, Harry took it and shook, smiling slightly. One by one, the rest of the boys shook the raven' hand, but only Millie, Tracey and Daphne approached the scarred child. Pansy turned and fled, shielding herself from the vision that was permanently cemented into her mind's eye. "Sorry about her," Vince continued with a rueful smile. "She's not used to seeing…"

"Monstrous freaks?" Harry supplied helpfully, emerald eye glinting angrily.

"We don't think that," Tracey murmured shyly. "We have relatives who've survived the first wizarding war, and they're pretty badly damaged. We know and understand that life happens."

"Glad to hear that," Draco replied, anger in his voice. "_She_, however, will be on the bad end of the Malfoy family honor. No one disrespects my friend and brother like she's done, and gets away with it. _No one_."

* * *

Pansy barged into Lucius' office, tears in her eyes. "Father, can we go now?" she asked pleadingly, trembling slightly, unaware that Draco and Harry had left the rest of the kids in the playroom to follow the Parkinson girl.

"Why, sweetie?" her father asked, confused. "What's wrong?"

"It's too horrible!" she wailed, hands once again over her eyes. She couldn't, however, escape what she had seen, and Harry's mutilated face hung in the darkness behind her closed lids. "He's a _monster_. A scarred, mangled _freak_." Lucius gasped harshly, staring at the girl angrily. Severus had tipped over from anger to rage, ebon eyes gleaming with it.

"You _dare_," he hissed quietly, stalking up to the bawling wench. "You _dare _to call my child a _monster_, when _you're_ the monster."

"Now see here, Severus," Richard barked angrily. "You have no call to speak to my daughter like that. I have half a mind…"

"Enough," came a child's voice from the partially open door. It was pushed open further, revealing Harry and Draco. Every man in the room, except for Lucius and Severus, gasped harshly at the sight of the child's face. His single emerald eye glared at everyone, darkness invading it. "I am the freak to which your daughter refers," the raven continued, voice icy with contempt. "My name is Harry Potter, and this is what I am." He pulled the patch from over his right eye, revealing the ragged, gaping socket. "This is what the wizarding world left me to," he continued, fury simmering just below the surface. "I was abandoned on someone's doorstep; left there in the middle of a freezing night to wait for the occupants of the house to discover my presence. I was attacked by a stray dog, and this is what it did to me. That your world looks to me to save it is _pathetic_. I'd sooner sit back and watch it _burn_." Turning, the boys returned to the playroom, leaving behind minor chaos in their wake.

"Pansy Delphinium Parkinson," her father barked loudly into the tense silence. "How could you _do_ that? To throw away the chance to make a good impression on one of the oldest pureblood families in the wizarding world. I thought I'd taught you _better _than that." Pansy's head hung low, wincing at every word flung at her by her irate father. He turned to Severus, bowing lowly in mute apology. "Please forgive her, Severus," he murmured. "She is unaccustomed to the harsh realities of the world. The Boy Who Lived's appearance is a bit…shocking. I'll endeavor to teach her better."

"I have no need for your empty apologies," Severus growled, glaring at the opportunistic man. "I am quite positive that, had my ward not have been who he is, you wouldn't have given your daughter's abhorrent behavior a second thought. If I see her so much as _look_ at Harry whilst they are at school, she will return home looking less _favorable_ than she does now. Consider this your _only_ warning."

* * *

*From the book Treasure Island, written by Robert Louis Stevenson, published November 14, 1883, by Cassell and Company, London.


	3. Chapter 3

"We'll be going to Diagon Alley to get your school supplies for Hogwarts," Severus told the boys quietly. Lucius and Narcissa were to accompany the group, to keep watch over Harry and, perhaps, prevent the crowds from overwhelming the child. They had decided to wait until he was to attend Hogwarts before making any forays into the wizarding public. Pansy Parkinson's meltdown, and the subsequent dressing down, by Harry, of nearly all in the room had left everyone unsure of his reception. Lucius suspected that Parkinson, at the least, would have told his friends and associates of the badly scarred Savior, so they were expecting to be stared at. They wanted to limit the amount of time that the marked child would spend amongst the wizards and witches in their world, in hopes that he would be strong enough when the time came to withstand the stares and the comments.

"Are you sure that you don't want a glamour, darling?" Narcissa asked Harry, running her fingers through his raven locks gently.

"I'm sure, Mum," the brunet replied with a murmur of pleasure. "One way or another, they'll have to get used to me. Better now than later, when it could disrupt things."

"If you're sure…" Nodding, the raven went to stand next to Severus, looking up at the man happily.

"Let's go, Dad," he said, grabbing the Potions Master's hand. Severus had tried to explain that he wasn't the child's father, but Harry would have none of it. Severus was there; he took care of him, and protected him, and stood up for him. As far as the last Potter heir was concerned, Severus was his father. The dour man reluctantly submitted to the boy's wishes, secretly pleased that the child saw him in such an important role. He had made an appointment with the goblins of Gringotts, to have them perform a specialized adoption ritual later that week.

The potion to regrow some of his fingers was moderately successful; the bones and muscles, tendons and circulatory supply were as good as new. The damaged nerves, however, were another story. Though the potion had restored them, it couldn't replace the sensitivity to those fingers. Without being able to feel what he gripped, he had very little control over how he held things, and invariably crushed or broke them. He used the digits that had survived the assault to gauge his grip; however, because he couldn't feel the magic in his hands very well, a wand would be all but useless. Therefore, when he had turned four, Severus and Lucius worked with him, as well as Draco, and trained them in the use of wandless magic. Both boys were astonishingly proficient at spells up to third year, so they would have no problem in Hogwarts. Though a wand was 'required', Lucius, as president of the School Board of Governors, had petitioned his associates for permission to permit his son and honorary nephew to use their wandless abilities, which was granted under the circumstances.

Their arrival at Diagon Alley went unnoticed at first; the shopping district was bustling with crowds anxious to get their children's school supplies. It wasn't until the group had begun to wend their way through the thronging public that someone noticed Harry's damaged face. It was a young woman, who gasped, her hands over her mouth and an expression of horrified sorrow on her face. She stood stock still in the middle of the street, impeding other shoppers, who brusquely brushed past her in irritation, not taking notice at first to what had captured her attention.

As she continued to stand there, however, others began to look where she was staring, eyes widening in horror as they watched the child work his way through the crowd. Many flinched away from him as he drew nearer, unwilling to allow him to touch them in any way. Their reactions only made the emerald eye grow frostier at the rejection. Severus snarled and sneered at the growing crowd, whispers hushing through the population of Diagon Alley watching the tableau make its way to Flourish and Blotts, their first destination.

Inside the store, more people flinched away from the sight of the ruin that was Harry's face as he grimly made his way through the stacks, seeking his school books. As he bent down to look at the potions texts, someone knocked into him, sending him sprawling to the floor. The bushy-haired girl turned, mouth open to apologize, then froze as she stared at Harry.

"I'm...I'm sorry," she stammered quickly, eyes skating away in horror. "I didn't mean to knock you down."

"It's fine," the brunet growled lowly, grimacing as he gathered the dropped texts.

"What...what _happened_ to you?" she gasped quietly. "Are you a victim of the war?"

"He is not," Draco replied haughtily. "He was the victim of an adult's _incompetence_. Now, if you've finished gawking at him, we have our supplies to purchase." The blond held out his hand to the brunet on the floor unflinchingly. Harry grabbed it and heaved himself off the floor. They started to walk away when the girl grabbed the raven's elbow. Harry jerked his arm away and turned to the girl, snarling.

"Don't you _ever_ touch me again," he growled lowly, emerald eye glowing. "I am not required to answer any of your questions, and my scars do not give you leave to touch me."

"I...I didn't mean anything by it," the girl murmured, face red in humiliation. Their confrontation had garnered an audience, and many eyes flinched away from the vision of the child's face. "Who...who made this happen?"

Draco eyed the girl for a time, gauging the truth of her words before he smirked. "It was headmaster Dumbledore that caused this," he said loudly. There were several gasps in the crowd, before a woman with bejeweled glasses pushed her way to the front.

"What do you mean?" she asked, an avaricious gleam in her eye.

"I mean," the blond said as he turned to face the woman, "that headmaster Dumbledore abandoned him in the muggle world. He left Harry on the doorstep of some muggles, and a stray dog chewed him up before he could be taken in." Severus stormed over to the boys, ebon eyes flaring with rage.

"What do you think you're doing?" he hissed menacingly as he grabbed Draco's elbow. A tug on his sleeve had him turning to Harry, who had a smirk on his own face.

"You want to punish the old man for doing this to me," the raven murmured in his father's ear. "What better way than to turn his _adoring public_ against him." Harry nodded toward the crowd, which was hanging on every word. "We could have him destroyed before I even get there." A slow smile crawled across the Potions Master's face, and he stepped behind his son, waiting and watching.

"Albus Dumbledore decided to place me with my mother's muggle relatives," Harry announced emotionlessly. "He left me on their doorstep in the middle of the night, with no protection whatsoever. A stray pit bull found me and attacked me. It was hungry and saw me as an easy meal. If those muggles hadn't have chased it off with a chemical spray, I would have died. As it is, this is how I was left."

He held up his hands, which showed the twisting, curling scars. "It tore up my face, costing me my eye. It ate most of my fingers, and I lost all sensation in those fingers, since the potions I was given couldn't restore nerve function in those restored fingers. I am unable to wield a wand, so I have been trained in wandless magic. One of my guardians was able to get permission from the school board for me to attend Hogwarts without a wand."

"Why were you left with muggles?" Rita asked.

"They were my mother's relatives. Her sister and brother-in-law."

"Who are you?" someone from the crowd asked.

"My name is Harry Potter."

* * *

_August 15, 1991_

_The Daily Prophet_

_**HEADMASTER A CHILD ABUSER**_

_**Chosen One Abandoned**_

_Left in the muggle world_

_Rita Skeeter, Reporter_

_This reporter had the opportunity to interview the Savior of the Wizarding World when I ran into him in Flourish and Blotts, getting his school texts. Let me just start this off by stating that his face is horribly scarred, and his hands a ruin. He was abandoned on the doorstep of his mother's muggle relatives, with no protection whatsoever._

_During the night of his abandonment, a stray dog savagely attacked him, chewing him up in its efforts to gain itself a meal. The relatives were able to chase it off, but not before Harry Potter lost an eye and most of his fingers. Albus Dumbledore took it upon himself to place our Savior in this position, and it is he who is responsible for what happened._

_Who gave Albus Dumbledore the right to decide where the orphaned Savior was to go? What did the wills of James and Lily Potter say about his placement? Were there any godparents that could have taken him in? Other wizarding couples that would have raised him to know of his heritage?_

_We all know that most muggles hate and fear us for our magic. What made Albus Dumbledore think that these particular muggles would be any different? Just because they were related to the chosen One's parents didn't make them suitable guardians._

_How could Albus Dumbledore leave an infant out in the cold, in the middle of the night, without any sort of protection? Was he not aware of the dangers that lurk in the muggle world? Was there anyone else there who could have talked some sense into the old man? How many of Dumbledore's sycophants knew what he was doing? Why didn't any of them stop him?_

_I challenge Albus Dumbledore to give me an interview; to explain his side of things. I demand that he tell us why he decided to abandon a magical child in the muggle world. I call upon him to reveal the wills of James and Lily Potter, if he is truly the child's magical guardian. And I demand that the Wizengamot, as well as the Department of Magical Law Enforcement investigate Dumbledore for child abandonment, child abuse, child neglect, and attempted murder of the Chosen One.  
_

* * *

In a small neighborhood in Surrey, the pop of apparition in an alley near number 4 Privet Drive startled a stray dog, which scurried away, yelping loudly. Such occurrences were fairly common in the neighborhood, so no one took any notice. Since the attack on Harry, the animal control department was kept busy, chasing down as many stray animals as was reported. The pit bull was found, having mauled yet another child, and it was euthanized, but not before the owner was found and jailed for his neglect.

Severus changed his clothing to reflect the muggle street, then strode with purpose to the Dursleys'. He gently tapped on the door, waiting patiently for someone to answer it. A hefty child opened the door, eyes widening at the sight of the dark, dour man on the stoop. "MUUUUM!" the boy shouted, barreling up the hallway toward the kitchen. Petunia Dursley poked her head around the doorframe, watery blue eyes widening in shock at the sight of the man standing in her entryway.

"What are _you_ doing here?" she snarled, marching toward Severus with purpose.

"I've come to thank you and your husband for saving my son," the Potions Master replied softly. The woman stopped dead in her tracks, mouth hanging agape in shock. "Your husband saved his life when he sprayed that dog's face with those chemicals."

"Yes, well, Vernon got into a lot of trouble for having a 'dangerous weapon'," she sniffed, arms crossed defensively. "If it wasn't for our neighbors standing up for us, he would've been heavily fined, and possibly seen some jail time. As it was," she turned to wave her hand with a flourish at a framed news clipping on the wall beside her, "he's been hailed as a hero."

"And deservedly so," Severus concurred, hand dipping into his robe pocket. Petunia instantly tensed, unsure what Severus' intentions were. Snape pulled out a small pouch and handed it to the woman. Tentatively, she took it, unzipping it carefully. Gasping loudly, she quickly ran her fingers over the wad of notes in the pouch.

"V-vernon will be home from work shortly, if you'd like to stay for tea," she muttered with a tremor in her voice. "I'm sure he'd like to hear from you how the boy's doing."

"I only came to give you that," Severus replied with a gesture of his hand, "as a token of my gratitude. We will never speak again, and I wish you and yours a good life." He turned to go, hand on the door knob, when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Wait," Petunia said softly. "How is he?"

"Do you really care?" the Potions Master asked gruffly. "I still remember when we were children, and how you treated Lily and me."

"I...I will never understand or accept your magic," she replied honestly. "It's too far out of the norm for me. But I would never wish that kind of tragedy on _anyone_, no matter who they are."

"He is fine," Severus answered after several weighted moments. "He has lost an eye in the attack, and he is heavily scarred, but he is fine."

"I'm...I'm sorry."


	4. Chapter 4

**FOUR**

_August 15, 1991_

_The Daily Prophet_

_**EXCLUSIVE INTERVIEW**_

_**Headmaster Breaks His Silence**_

_Rita Skeeter, reporter_

_In a shocking move, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore came to my office to talk with me about the situation with the Chosen One. After sending out that challenge with my last article, I waited to see if he would respond. After several long days, I had despaired of getting his side of the story, and had all but given up. The gods must be smiling on me today, for here is the interview you all have been waiting for._

_**RS:** Thank you for coming to see me, Dumbledore._

_**AD:** You really gave me no choice, dear lady. I'm here to set the record straight in regards to Harry Potter. Firstly, I must tell you that he was not abandoned in the muggle world…_

_**RS:** So you're saying that the poor, mangled child I had met in Flourish and Blotts is **lying**?_

_**AD:** No...no. Not that. I am sure that he was just repeating what was told him by certain other...undesirables, shall we say? I left him with his mother's sister and her husband. He was not abandoned._

_**RS:** He was left on the stoop of his aunt and uncle's residence, correct? (Dumbledore nodded sagely, as if this behavior was acceptable.) He was subsequently mauled by a stray dog before they even knew he was there, correct? (He again nodded, blithely unaware of where I was leading.) If his relatives didn't know he was there, then, by law, he was abandoned. Did you even bother to let them know of his existence?_

_**AD:** I left them a note in the child's basket. (He was sounding quite out of sorts by now.) I made sure that the note was imbued with enough magic to make it a magical contract between Petunia and I._

_**RS:** You are aware, Dumbledore, that you cannot make a magical contract between a muggle and yourself, aren't you?_

_**AD:** She wasn't **strictly** muggle. (He was beginning to sweat by this time.) I have been doing research into muggleborns for many years, and believe that they come from squibs sent into the muggle world. Therefore, Petunia was a squib, and was capable of being bound in a magical contract._

_**RS:** Be that as it may, you left him on a stoop in the middle of the night, without any sort of protection. Without alerting the occupants to his existence. Without even **asking** if they **wanted** him._

_**AD:** He's their nephew! Of **course** they would have wanted him!_

_**RS:** I contacted his relatives before I received your request for an interview, and they stated unequivocally that they, in fact, **didn't** want him. That, and I quote, 'we don't want any freaks in our nice, normal lives'. Mrs. Dursley **did** say that she was sorry for what had happened to little Harry Potter, but that 'magic is an abomination, and a sin against God'. She felt that the attack was 'punishment for the child's parents' godless ways'._

_**AD:** But...but that can't be! He's just a child!_

_**RS:** Yes, he's just a child. A child you condemned to a life of pain. When I spoke to him, I felt a deep well of darkness in his soul. He has suffered as no child should **ever** suffer, and it's entirely your fault. If I were you, I wouldn't count on his support. In fact, I daresay that you're permanently on his shit list.  
_

_I ended the interview here; Albus Dumbledore looked devastated and guilty, but I don't believe that will last long. This is our illustrious leader, ladies and gentlemen. A man who would abandon an orphaned child with no care or thought for his safety or comfort. I almost believe that we would have been better off with He Who Must Not Be Named!  
_

* * *

After both articles were published, there was such an outcry of disbelief and outrage that Dumbledore had to erect wards to prevent any more howlers from reaching Hogwarts. Lucius' home was inundated with sympathy and pity for Harry; the child scoffed at the display, scorn in his eye. When asked how he felt about it all, he just rolled his eye. "Their hypocrisy turns my stomach," he had snapped. "If I hadn't been mauled; if I had stayed with those people, no one in the wizarding world would've given two shits for me. I wouldn't have even crossed their _minds._"

"While I may agree that they would not have been concerned for your safety," Lucius replied slowly, "I do not believe that they would not have thought of you. You are, after all, the Boy Who Lived."

* * *

The group made it to King's Cross without trouble. With Harry and Draco were Blaise, Theo, Greg, Vince, Daphne and Tracey. The kids passed through the barrier to 9¾, followed quickly by Severus, Lucius, and Narcissa. If anyone from James' and Lily's past were still alive, they weren't making themselves known to the child. From the shadows of the platform, amber eyes, full of sadness, watched as his cub walked straight for the train. _Oh, Harry,_ he thought sadly as he watched. He flinched minutely when the raven turned around to say something to the tall blonde woman, eyes widening at the sight of the child's ruined face. _I should have done something more to keep you safe. Instead, you're now amongst evil, vile people who are just __**waiting**__ for the best way to use you._

The man's thoughts were unknown to the kids as they boarded the train with Severus, the Malfoy parents standing on the platform to see them off. Harry stuck his head out of an open window for a moment, smiling at Lucius and Narcissa with love. "Thank you for everything," he said quietly. "I love you guys." Blushing profusely, he pulled his head quickly back through the window, missing the beaming smiles that creased the two elder blondes' faces.

The children followed Severus to the car furthest from the engine, where they all settled into an enlarged booth. "So what happens now?" Draco asked quietly. He and Harry were in the seats against the wall, facing the door of the car. Harry had taken to making sure that his back was to the wall at all times, so that he could see anyone approaching. Since Pansy's unfortunate meltdown at his appearance, his level of trust narrowed drastically. He no longer felt free to relax; he was concerned that someone would try and hurt him. The reactions in Diagon Alley and at the bookstore only served to solidify his mild paranoia.

"We wait," Severus intoned softly, dark eyes watching his son carefully. He had made the adoption official; he was now the father of the Chosen One. Lucius and he were worried, however, at how the Dark Lord would take the change in circumstances when he returned. "I know my Slytherins; Miss Parkinson's was an unfortunate reaction. I know that my students will not shun you as she had.

"You will not be dealing with her in any way," he continued, looking into the glittering emerald eye that was full of anger. "Parkinson has seen fit to transfer her to Durmstrang. She will obtain her magical education there. Heaven help her, however, if her unfortunate Hufflepuff tendencies emerge."

Blaise snickered softly at that. "Yeah," he replied. "She's always been like that. Her father was _so sure_ that his precious angel would be a Slytherin. We all knew differently. Her name suits her well." Chuckles and laughter broke out at the declaration, and it was into this bit of hilarity that other Slytherin students entered the car. Eyes zeroed in on the booth in the far corner, many softening from their indifference and coldness to sympathy and, in some cases, pity for the Potter heir.

A single, glittering emerald eye looked at the entering students, freezing them in place with the darkness and hostility emanating from the eleven year old child. Cautiously, Marcus Flint approached the group, his friends trailing behind him. "Hello," he said with a bowed head, extending his hand to Harry. "My name is Marcus Flint, and I'd like to welcome you to Hogwarts, and to Slytherin house." He spied the House of Prince ring on the boy's left middle finger, and a smirk graced his face. "Congratulations, professor Snape," he said, hand still extended to Harry. "I'm glad to see that you will be taking care of him." He turned back to the boy in time to see the child's hand extend and grasp his. They shook like men, and a grin broke out across the scarred face.

"I'm happy to meet you," the brunet replied once the ceremony had completed. "I'm Harry Snape, and this is..."

* * *

"Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" a loud voice barked into the gloom as students disembarked from the train. Harry looked over at the man for a moment, eye narrowed suspiciously.

"That's the way that first years get to the castle," Severus murmured in his son's ear. "They go by boat, whilst those in the upper years take a carriage."

"Why can't _we_ take the carriage?" Draco whined, grey eyes wide on the overly large man.

"It is part of the ceremony of introducing the first years to Hogwarts," a voice said from behind them, startling them. The kids turned and stared at the tall, lanky redheads behind them. "Hi," the one on the left said. "I'm Fred Weasley, and this is my twin brother, George."

"I'm Harry Snape," the raven said softly, smiling, "and this is Draco. That's Blaise, and Theo, and Daphne, and Tracey, and Vince, and Greg."

"_What are you doing?_" Draco hissed at his friend, wide grey eyes never leaving the twins. "They're _Weasleys_!"

"They're fine, Draco," Harry replied with a smile. "I sense no ill intent from them. Besides, if they try anything, I get to use my wandless magic against them. You know I've been _dying_ to try some of the spells we've learned." There was a malicious smirk on the eleven year old's face as he said this, which made the twins tremble slightly.

"No worries about us," George said quickly, hands up in surrender. "We mean you no harm. If you'd like, we'll ride in one of the boats with you."

"No, that's all right," Harry responded with another quick grin. "I think we can manage it." He turned to his father for a moment, then hugged him quickly before trotting to the boats, his entourage following behind.

* * *

They were standing in the room off the Great Hall, waiting for the sorting. As soon as Harry entered the room, everyone turned and stared, whispers and hushed conversations ebbing and flowing around him. Protectively, his friends surrounded him, preventing anyone from touching him. More than once, professor McGonagall, who had introduced herself earlier, glanced at the raven with great sadness, before turning away to dab at her eyes.

"I'm getting mighty sick of this," the boy murmured more than once, glaring around at everyone who stared. Most dropped their eyes and blushed with embarrassment, but a few met his gaze bravely, barely flinching at the ruin that was his face. To those who expressed this courage, he nodded approval, making them grin happily. They approached him and introduced themselves; there was Neville Longbottom, Parvati and Padma Patil, and Zacharias Smith. Once introductions had been made, they returned to their places. The bushy haired girl from Flourish and Blotts tried to introduce herself, but Harry frowned and turned away, snubbing her.

At one point a redhead tried to butt into his conversations, giving him dire warnings about his friends. "Honestly, mate," the freckled boy said enthusiastically, "you shouldn't be hanging around this lot. They're nothing but trouble. Death Eaters in training is what they are."

"And you would know this, how?" Harry asked softly. The redhead completely missed the warning in the other boy's voice.

"His dad," he pointed at Draco, "is the right hand man of He Who Must Not Be Named. He's got the Dark Mark and everything. Naturally, if his dad is one, then everyone else's dad is one."

"By that logic," Harry hissed, "_I_ am a Death Eater in training, since my father is _also_ a Death Eater."

"James Potter was not a Death Eater," the redhead replied vehemently. "He fought for the Light!"

"He's dead," Harry responded in a dull voice. "My adopted father is Severus Snape. He's the only dad I've ever known. Since he was part of Voldemort's forces, I, by your logic, am a Death Eater in training."

"C'mon, mate," the redhead wheedled. "Come over here with me, and get away from these slimy snakes. Dumbledore says that you and I should be best friends."

"We're not even _sorted_ yet, Weasley," Draco said with a sneer. "How can you possibly make judgments about us?"

"Weasley?" Harry queried, looking over at the blond. "How do you know he's a Weasley?"

"It's the red hair and freckles, and the impoverished look of him," the blond said with a sniff, nose in the air.

"Sod off, Malfoy," Weasley snarled, grabbing Harry's elbow. "He's going where he _belongs_." He started to drag Harry away under protest, hand wrapped like a vise around the boy's elbow. Suddenly, the redhead yelped and dropped Harry's arm, blowing on his fingers and glaring balefully at the raven.

"Don't _ever_ touch me again," the raven snarled in the astonished redhead's face. "You _are_ not, never _have_ been, nor ever _will_ be, my friend."


	5. Chapter 5

**FIVE**

_September 22, 1991_

_The Daily Prophet_

_**SEVERUS SNAPE SPEAKS**_

_**Breaks His Silence**_

_Rita Skeeter, reporter_

_Hello, dear readers. Today I have a special treat for you. Severus Snape, the man who rescued and raised our Savior, has agreed to an interview. What you learn will shock you, as it brings to light more of Dumbledore's sins._

_**RS: **Thank you for agreeing to see me today, professor Snape._

_**SS:** While I will not say that it is a pleasure, it is a necessary evil. I wish to lay to rest all of the questions that my son and I have received since your first article came out._

_**RS:** Your son?_

_**SS:** Yes. That is the first question I wish to address. Lucius Malfoy and I have received a great many letters, accusing us of 'turning the Boy Who Lived against the wizarding world'. We have been accused of trying to raise him to be the next Dark Lord. Nothing could be further from the truth. When Arabella Figg contacted me about the tragedy, I went straight to the hospital and vowed, when I saw Harry's poor little face, that I would take care of him and protect him. Lily Potter was my best friend, and I would stop at nothing to guard her precious boy. That was Harry's and my relationship in the beginning. I was his protector and mentor. Harry came to see me as his father, and I made it official in August of this year._

_**RS: **How did you treat his injuries, if I might ask?_

_**SS:** The surgeons in the muggle hospital closed every wound on his little body, but could do nothing to save the ruin that was his right eye. They removed the eye, and I brought him home with me the next day. I used potions to regenerate his missing fingers, and I used dittany and essence of murtlap to reduce the scars. Unfortunately I could do nothing about the most severe of them, but I did my best to mitigate some of the damage done to him. (It was at this moment that he showed me a wizarding photograph of Harry and he, and the boy looked ecstatically happy to be with professor Snape.)_

_**RS: **I thought you couldn't regenerate missing limbs. If that was possible, why didn't Alistor Moody regenerate his leg?_

_**SS:** As you, and the rest of the wizarding world, know, you cannot repair anything damaged by Dark magic. The magic infects the injury, and is permanent. Besides, I had impetus to invent a potion that would regenerate any injuries caused by natural or accidental causes._

_**RS: **Indeed. Did the Potters leave any wills?_

_**SS:** They did. They left everything to Harry, with the stipulation that he not be sent to Petunia and Vernon Dursley for his care. There was no godfather named, but the Potters did name a few families that he was to go to. _

_**RS:** Who were they?_

_**SS:** I am not at liberty to say. Suffice it to say that, had the wills been unsealed at the Potters' deaths, perhaps Harry would not have had to suffer so much pain and disfigurement._

_**RS:** Speaking of the Dursleys, why did you wait so long to speak to them?_

_**SS:** I knew Petunia Evans growing up. She was Lily's sister, and she hated both Lily and I for our magic. Most of it was jealousy, as we had what she didn't. She made it known, every chance she had, that Lily was an abomination. We lost touch once I started Hogwarts, and I never gave her a second thought. When Harry was attacked, Mrs. Figg filled me in on the behaviors and attitudes of the Dursleys. For the longest time, I couldn't bring myself to visit them. I was afraid that I would do something unfortunate to Petunia. I still held a grudge, you see. It was after I had adopted Harry that I realized that, had Vernon not acted as quickly as he had, my son would have died. So I went to their home and spoke with Petunia for a moment, to thank her and her husband for saving Harry's life._

_**RS:** When I spoke to them, she was very adamant that she hated everything to do with magic. That her religion proclaims us as evil. She didn't seem very sympathetic to me._

_**SS:** She was very open when she expressed her sorrow over Harry's attack. I believe, deep down, that she misses her sister, and wishes for a different outcome to their parting. I also believe that, in order to keep peace in her family, she must toe the family line with respects to religious practices and beliefs. I have not deluded myself; Petunia is a right bitch, and loathes everything we are. I just felt a bit of sadness coming from her. Perhaps, one day, Harry will want to visit with them, and let them see how he's fared. Only time will tell.  
_

* * *

_October 3, 1991_

_The Daily Prophet_

_**DUMBLEDORE SUED!**_

_**Savior to bring charges against headmaster in civil court**_

_Rita Skeeter, reporter_

_In a surprise move, Harry Snape has decided to file a lawsuit against our 'esteemed' headmaster. You will remember that Dumbledore had abandoned the child on his relatives' doorstep shortly after his parents were killed, where he was savagely attacked by a stray dog. Well good readers, the Savior has decided to get compensation for the old man's gross negligence and neglect. The hearing is to begin October 18th, at 9:00 a.m. in courtroom ten of the Ministry._

_The evidence against Dumbledore is overwhelming; as well as eyewitness testimony, there will be muggle physicians' reports, Healer reports and pensieve memories. Professor McGonagall will be called as a witness for the plaintiff as it seems that she was present at the muggle residence for most of the day. She will be testifying on her own observations and interactions with, not only the family, but Dumbledore. It is to be a closed hearing, with only myself and a couple of other reporters present. I will surely let you good readers know the outcome, and any additional information as I receive it.  
_

* * *

Albus stared at the legal documents scattered across his desk with sorrow and a little bit of anger. When Harry had entered the Great Hall for the sorting, the headmaster's eyes had widened in horrified shock at the condition of the boy's face. He had prepared himself for some sort of outward signs of the child's attack, but he was wholly unprepared for the extent of the damage.

Harry had been wearing one of his favorite eye patches. It had a Chinese dragon embroidered on it in silver and emerald thread. When the child had noticed the old man staring at him in shock, he removed the patch, revealing the gaping orifice where his eye had once been. Dumbledore dropped his eyes, repulsed and sickened at the sight. There were gasps throughout the Hall as other students saw the hole where the eye had once been. Smirking viciously, Harry put the patch back into place, ignoring the hissing conversations that ebbed and flowed around him.

When it was his turn to sit under the hat, it was silent for a moment before, in a flat and dead voice, it announced _Slytherin_. Gasps rung out in the Hall, and the murmuring increased in volume as Severus magicked the patch to the boy's robes. With his head high, he walked over to his House table, sitting between Draco and Blaise. Greg and Vince, as well as Theo, sat across from him. Tracey and Millie sat on either side of Draco and Blaise, while Daphne sat next to Theo. Most of the conversations were about the Savior being sorted into Slytherin; a fair few, however were discussing the tone of the Hat's voice, having never heard it sound so..._defeated_. As if it somehow _knew_ something about their future, and was _discouraged._

"_Silence_," barked the headmaster as he stood up. He had recovered his equilibrium and wished to contain the damage. "As you all have seen, the Boy Who Lived has arrived. Yes, he is wounded from his encounter with a dog. I had attempted to alert the occupants of the home to Mr. Potter's arrival, but there was no answer. I believe someone lifted the protections I'd placed around the basket, allowing the animal to attack our Savior. I also believe that the dog was no stray. I think that it was a specially trained animal of one of Voldemort's Death Eaters, and was let loose on Mr. Potter to kill him."

"Excuse me, headmaster," Severus interrupted angrily, "but his name is Harry_ Snape._ As I said in my interview with Skeeter, I have officially adopted him, and he is my son. Kindly remember that."

_What am I going to do?_ the old man thought miserably. _I cannot let this go to trial. I'll be ruined and my reputation destroyed if I allow that child to succeed. I still have some special friends in the Wizengamot who might be able to help me. Perhaps they will be able to sway the judgment my way.  
_

* * *

Classes were going well. After the initial shock, the students quickly adapted to the sight of their Savior. Though Harry _hated_ the expectations placed upon his shoulders, told to him by everyone who approached him, he bore up well under the pressures placed on him. He ignored anyone who looked at him with any sort of awe, disgusted at the idea that those students only wanted to be his friend for his status. He also noticed that their eyes would drop after only seconds of looking at him, and he spied minute flinches if he passed too closely to any of them. It hurt, but he just stuffed those feelings deep down, hoping that everyone would eventually leave him alone. Slowly, but surely, they finally started to back away, allowing the raven to attend his classes with a minimum of fuss.

Surprisingly, he'd gained a fair few friends along the way. Not only were most of the Slytherins on his side, but Ceric Diggory and Zacharias Smith from Hufflepuff had his back. The Weasley twins, Neville Longbottom, and Parvati Patil from Gryffindor, and her sister Padma from Ravenclaw also became close with the raven. Any time they had classes together, except for Cedric and the twins, as they were third years, his friends would sit with him, providing a buffer against those who would accost him unnecessarily. Anyone who stared too long was met with sneers and glaring eyes. Snape was relieved to see that there were others outside his own House willing to see his son for himself. That they had the ability to look beyond the boy's scarred visage, and see the heart and soul that lay beneath, however _dark _it was.

* * *

"Shamus," the headmaster said softly one afternoon, looking at the hat, "why were you so morose when you announced Harry's placement?" The hat on the shelf stirred, then the split in the brim opened. It turned and looked at Albus, and the old man _swore_ that he could feel rage emanating from the headgear.

"You know very well that I cannot reveal a student's secrets," Shamus nearly snarled. "However, I _can_ tell you that you will not be able to manipulate that boy. I suggest that you keep your long, crooked nose out of his business."

Dumbledore gaped at the hat for a moment, before bushy white brows snapped down over his eyes in anger. The omnipresent twinkle was gone and his cerulean eyes had darkened to the steel color of storm clouds. "How _dare_ you speak to me like that! You had better watch yourself, Shamus. It wouldn't take anything to chuck you into the fire."

"By all means, old man," the hat scoffed. "Please, do me the favor. Then I can reunite with my loved ones on the other side." Temper forgotten in the face of the Sorting Hat's nonchalance, Albus stared at it, confused.

"Why so hostile?" he queried softly.

"I've sat here, on this shelf, for a very long time," the hat finally said. "I've watched headmasters come and go. In all my years, I've _never_ seen _anyone_ work _so hard_ to twist situations and people to suit their purposes like _you_ have. I've sat here, and suffered in silence, as you've destroyed this fine school. For the first time ever, since I've been privy to the inner thoughts of everyone who's ever attended this school, I would like to be released. I am tired and want to see my family again."

Fawkes, who had been with the Sorting Hat almost from the beginning, let out a sad trill before flying over to Shamus. He took the hat in his talons and flew with it to the fireplace, where he dropped it into the flames. Dumbledore struggled to his feet and charged the phoenix, screaming in anguish as he watched the Sorting Hat be reduced to ashes.

"What have you done?" he bellowed, tears streaming down his face. Fawkes gave a mournful cry before flaming away, and he would be gone for a very long time.


	6. Chapter 6

**SIX**

"Harry, my boy," Albus said with a beaming smile. "Please come in and have a seat. Tea? Lemon drop?"

"No, thank you, sir," the boy said coldly. The temperature in the office dropped a few degrees, and the old man shivered, feeling as if a goose had walked over his grave.

"I'm glad you could make time to visit this old man," Dumbledore said, trying to charm the child, with little success. Harry just stared at him, no emotion whatsoever in his emerald eye. "Well, we'll just get down to business, shall we? I'm rather..._concerned_ by your attitude toward a majority of the students here, Harry. I am glad to see that you have a few friends in the other Houses, but I'd really like to see you in more _suitable_ company."

"The company I keep is of no concern to you, headmaster," Harry said indifferently. "I am more than capable of choosing those with whom I'd like to spend time. The rest of the student body? Well, once they grow a brain and see me as more than their vaunted _Savior, _or a _monster_, then perhaps I'll socialize with them."

"Harry, they're merely children. They're very happy to see you here," Albus said with a frown, unsure how to approach this unapproachable boy. "They all wish to be your friends."

"Be that as it may, _headmaster_, I do not wish to be _theirs_. I am quite satisfied with the friends I _do_ have. As a matter of fact, I would be perfectly fine with _no_ friends. Now, if you'll excuse me..." The raven made to rise, but Albus was having none of it.

"I'm not quite finished with you, young man," he said gravely. Heaving a put-upon sigh, Harry settled back into the chair, a scowl on his scarred face. "What has made you so..._angry_? Why are you so hateful to the other students?"

"Perhaps if those other students treated me like a _person_ and not like a _thing_, I would be more amenable to them. As it is, I see the way they flinch away from me whenever I pass them in the halls. I see how they look shocked and horrified at my appearance. It's been several weeks into the school year now, and they all act as if this is the first time they've _seen_ me.

"I hear them whispering, too, headmaster. I hear them talking about how ugly I am; how _monstrous_. They believe that, as ugly as I am on the outside, I must be just as ugly _inside_. None of them willingly reach out a hand of friendship to me. Hell, half the time someone else has to _push_ them to even _approach _me. These are the people for whom you want me to _sacrifice myself_? These people, who have such heavy expectations of me; who do not see me as anything more than a means to an end, and you want me to be _friendly_ with them?"

Albus sat back and stared at the child, once again feeling a mountain of guilt fall upon his shoulders at his culpability in the boy's attitude. When the silence stretched on for far too long, Harry finally got up and left the office, Albus still staring at the chair in which the deeply wounded boy had perched. _What have I done?_ he thought morosely. _I've condemned the wizarding world to another Dark Lord.  
_

* * *

A few days later, Albus, having shaken off his doom-filled thoughts, began to set up the test he'd planned for Harry Potter. Everything else was in place; all of the obstacles, created by the other teachers with the exception of Severus, ready for when Harry decided to go after the Philosopher's stone. Dumbledore had wanted to test his mettle; to see if the damaged child held any sort of deeply hidden desire to prove to everyone else that he _did _care; that he _wanted_ to be their savior. Once he'd finished putting on the last few spells and tweaks, he went back to his office and began to plan how he would lure the child to the Mirror of Erised, so that Albus could spy and find out exactly what the boy's deepest desire truly was.

* * *

"M-m-mister P-potter, if you w-would, s-s-stay after c-c-class for a mo-moment," Quirrel stuttered softly. Nodding, the raven sat back down at his desk and waited for the classroom to clear. Severus had told the boy a few days into the start of term that there was something _off_ about the stuttering defense professor; Snape's mark had acted up when in close proximity to the man. Fearing the worst, he had told his son that he was not to be alone with Quirrel, no matter what.

Harry, however, got a different vibe from the man. His scar had tingled a little whenever he was in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, and he was curious to know why. So he waited for the other man to speak. There was silence for several beats as Quirrel tried to reason out why his master wished to speak with the boy. Finally, he beckoned Harry closer and asked him to sit in front of the desk. The raven did, eye gleaming curiously at the behavior of the professor.

Quirrel sat and turned his chair, so that his back was to the boy. He then began to unwrap the turban that was always around his head, revealing the misshapen face that perched on the back of his skull. Harry sat up a bit straighter as those ruby eyes pierced into his mind. He didn't feel anything bad; he patiently waited for the face to finish his intrusion. Finally, Harry felt the presence leave his mind, and smirked at the shock on the face.

"Harry Snape," the face hissed, eyes narrowed in thought. "My name is Lord Voldemort."

"Pleased to meet you, sir," Harry answered. "I've heard a lot about you, and, I must say, not all of it was good."

"Yes," the Dark Lord said with a chuckle, "I don't doubt that most of it is unpleasant. Do you know why I targeted your family, and you?"

"Yes," the preteen replied softly. "My father made sure to inform me of everything that happened, including his part in your targeting my family. I know about the prophecy. Frankly, knowing how brilliant you once were, I was surprised to find that you believe in such balderdash."

"Yes, well, I was not in my right mind toward the end," Voldemort said with a grimace. "I believe I made too many 'safeguards', which drove me insane. Unfortunately, I've made one of you, as well."

"So that's why my scar was tingling whenever I was around Quirrel," the boy said excitedly. "I have a bit of the greatest Dark Lord in wizarding history in my head."

"That...that _pleases _you?" Voldemort asked incredulously.

"Why wouldn't it?" Harry responded with enthusiasm. "As you can see from my face, and as you've probably heard from others, I hold no fondness for the wizarding world, and I have no intention of sacrificing myself for the 'Greater Good', as the headmaster plans. As far as I'm concerned, the whole world can burn to the ground for all I care."

"Would you like to tell me what happened to you, child? I fear that I've only heard snippets. No one really likes talking to Quirrel because of his stutter."

"Saint Dumbledore left me on my muggle relatives' doorstep, in a basket and without protection. I was abandoned, and a stray dog came along and decided I'd make a good dinner. Needless to say, I lost my eye, and most of my fingers. The fingers were regrown, but I have no feeling in them, and they're practically useless to me."

"_Dumbledore_ did this? To his _Savior_?" the Dark Lord gasped, outraged.

"Yes he did. He didn't want me growing up in the wizarding world. Afraid I would become arrogant and full of myself because of all the adulation I would receive. At least, that's what he told my father. _I_ believe that he wanted me out of the way, so that no one could find me until he was ready to unveil his secret weapon. He figured to leave me with my mum's sister in the hopes that she would raise me to be humble and willing to follow anyone's directions."

"The muggles would most likely have abused you," Voldemort snarled. "_I_ was abused by them when my mother died giving birth to me. She had given birth in an orphanage, and that is where I stayed."

"So you never had contact with the wizarding world?" Harry asked curiously.

"Not until I received my Hogwarts letter," the Dark Lord replied, still seething. "Dumbledore was the one to bring it to me, and by the time I'd met him, I was already very angry at my treatment. I'd already developed a deep hatred for muggles, but it was the wizarding world that betrayed me the most.

"Muggles cannot help themselves when it comes to anything strange or frightening. It's part of their nature to respond violently to the things they fear. Magicals, however, don't have that excuse, and yet I was treated as an anathema because everyone in my house thought I had dirty blood. It was then I decided to rise up against the wizarding world, by enslaving the very people who had treated me so poorly."

"The purebloods," Harry responded incredulously. At Voldemort's nod, the child continued. "So you set out to prove to the purebloods that blood didn't matter?"

"Well, not exactly," the face said, sounding sheepish. "I thought to prey on their fears enough to make sure that I had complete control of them. Then, when the time was right, I would rise up against them, and teach them a lesson about underestimating me because of my blood. Unfortunately, because I had delved into too many arcane, forbidden magics, my mind fractured, and I lost my purpose."

"You seem reasonable to me now," Harry opined softly, emerald eye glittering.

"That is only because I have Quirrel's brain to work with. I assure you, as soon as I regain my body, I will be insane once again."

"You don't have to be," Harry told the man. "You could reabsorb your safeguards and start fresh. The only one you would have would be _me_. You wouldn't need any more, since I don't intend to fight you."

"What, exactly, are you saying, child?"

"I'll join you," Harry replied, deeply shocking Voldemort. "I think that the wizarding world needs to be shaken up, and what better way than to allow you to do what you'd intended all along."

"In order to regain my body, I would need the Philosopher's stone."

"I have no doubt that the headmaster plans to use me to kill you," Harry said with a grimace twisting his scarred face. "I would not be at all surprised to find that he's engineered something so that you and I meet in a 'final confrontation'. Unfortunately for him, I have absolutely no intention of 'destroying' you."


	7. Chapter 7

**Seven**

"I had a chat with Quirrel," Harry said as soon as he entered their shared quarters. Ebon brows rose into Severus' hairline in shock, before a monumental scowl wreathed his face.

"Have I not told you to stay away from that man?" he barked harshly, making Harry flinch slightly. "There's something _wrong_ with him; _dangerous_. I'll not have you putting your life in jeopardy like that."

"You mean the presence of Lord Voldemort on the back of the man's head?" Harry asked matter-of-factly, which took the wind out of Severus' sails. The older man slumped down into a chair, shock coloring his face.

"The...the _Dark Lord_?" the Potions Master husked incredulously. "_Here_?" At his son's nod, he sighed wearily. "How does Albus not _know_?" he growled lowly.

"I'm sure he does," the preteen replied with a shrug. "This is probably one of those 'games' he likes to play, where I get into some sort of trouble and prove myself to him."

"Game?" Snape queried, anger forgotten.

"Yes. By the way, thank you for teaching me legilimency as well as occlumency. I was able to scan the surface thoughts in his mind, and I found out a few rather _unpleasant_ things about our venerated headmaster. It seems that he intends to throw Voldemort and myself together as much as possible, to see if I, in any way, have the emotional impetus to 'save the wizarding world'. I've already told him that I have no interest in being his Savior. Apparently, he's not going to pay any attention to that."

"So you've spoken with the Dark Lord?" Severus asked tremulously. Harry was slightly surprised at the depth of emotion the older Slytherin was showing, and was gratified to know that the older man truly _did_ love him.

"Yeah," Harry repllied with a grin. "I told him everything that had happened to me to result in this," with a wave at his face, "and he was infuriated on my behalf. I'm glad I was able to speak with him, and I intend to do it some more, if that's all right with you."

"He didn't seem...insane, did he?"

"Not at all," Harry answered, emerald eye twinkling merrily. "In fact, talking to him was like talking to _you_."

* * *

"Hello, my Lord," Harry said as he sat in front of Quirrel. They were in the Defense quarters for yet another chat. Harry had taken to coming to visit the man often in the weeks that followed their first interaction, just to 'touch base', as it were.

"Hello, Harry," the face said as soon as it was unveiled. "You may call me Tom, if you wish."

"Thank you, sir," the raven replied with a smile. "Christmas is almost here. I'll have loads more time to visit with you then, and maybe we can come up with a plan."

"That sounds doable," Riddle replied softly. He had told the child at one of their prior meetings of his origins, which had Harry laughing at the absurdity of Tom's efforts to campaign against those with mixed heritages. Once the giggling fit was over, the pair got down to brass tacks.

"I'll let you know if anything unusual happens, since the headmaster will be here during the holidays as well."

* * *

Harry woke on Christmas morning to find that some gifts were piled on the foot of his bed. Most were from his friends in the school, and he tore into them happily, exclaiming over them. One was from Tom, and it contained a book of Dark spells and rituals in which the teen had expressed interest. The final gift was a shimmering cloak that felt like water running through his hands. As he looked at it, it fell across his legs, and his eye widened at the sight, or, rather, _lack_ of sight of his knees.

"An invisibility cloak," he murmured softly to himself as he experimented with it, grinning all the while. "I wonder who sent it?" The only thing enclosed with the cloak was an unsigned note, which read _Your father left this in my possession when he died. Use it well. _

"Who in Merlin's name would be daft enough to give an eleven year old boy an _invisibility cloak_? Not that I don't appreciate having something from Dad," Harry continued incredulously after reading the note. "And what does this person mean by saying 'use it well'? It's almost as if...no, the headmaster wouldn't be _that _stupid, would he?" Rising from his bed and taking the cloak and note with him, he went into the living room, thrusting both into his father's face. "Please tell me this wasn't written by whom I believe it was written?"

After uncrossing his eyes and huffing slightly in annoyance, Severus took the items, eyebrows skating in his hairline in shock at the cloak, before scowling down at the note. Moments later, Harry heard_ blasted bollocking interfering old bastard_ mumbled quietly, and snorted in amusement. "Yes," his father said out loud, once he'd gotten his temper in check, "it's from the headmaster. Though I have no idea_ why_ he would feel the need to give such a dangerous magical artifact to an eleven year old, no matter the provenance."

"I concur wholeheartedly," Harry told his dad. "I believe it was given to me to 'encourage' me to explore the castle without getting caught. I suppose he's trying to 'allow' me to experience my childhood, despite my appearance. He doesn't know that you've given me the greatest childhood I could ever ask for, so he failed on that point. I will, however, use it to snoop around tonight. Perhaps he has a 'surprise' for me somewhere."

"Be careful," his father said in a no-nonsense manner. "You do not know of what he's capable."

* * *

He found himself outside an empty classroom on the fourth floor, the door halfway open. Inside was some sort of mirror, leaning against a far wall, and Harry was overtaken with curiosity; a feeling he'd never really had before. Taking a few steps into the room, he tensed sharply at the feeling of magic in the corner behind the door._ Dumbledore's here,_ he thought angrily, ready to turn around and leave. Something made him stay, however, and he slowly made his way to the looking glass.

It was a tall mirror, the frame made of filigreed wood, and it was a beautiful, if cumbersome thing. He stepped before it and lowered the hood of his cloak, staring into the glass with rapt attention. Nothing reflected back at him, and for the longest time he stood there, puzzling the purpose of the mirror. He'd read the message above the glass, carved into the wood, and understood that the mirror was magical somehow. Of course, you'd have to be dead not to feel the weighty magic attached to the item, but the inscription said that the mirror would show one his _heart's desire_.

Looking back at the empty glass, Harry finally understood that he _had_ no heart's desire. That everything he could have possibly wanted or needed was already given to him by his father and the Malfoys. He snorted in amusement, a maliciously mischievous gleam in his eye. "So," he murmured just loud enough for the invisible wizard behind the door to hear, "my heart's desire is to be surrounded by bouncing puppies and kittens. I must admit, I wouldn't mind that at all. I'll ask Father if he'll get them for me." He pulled the hood back over his head and left the room, whistling quietly.

He had felt the spike of magic from the headmaster, and attributed it to either surprise or anger. Harry didn't really care which it was; he only cared that the old man hadn't gotten what he'd wished. Back in the classroom, Albus dropped the disillusionment charm and snarled quietly, staring at the mirror across the room balefully. _I know I wouldn't have been able to see whatever the child saw, but I sincerely doubt it was gamboling puppies and kittens. He's up to something, but damned if I know what it is. I just hope that he'll do what he's supposed to do when the time is right.  
_

* * *

Two days later, Harry was, once again, standing in front of the Mirror of Erised. He and Tom had talked at length about the child's prior experience with it, and had come to the conclusion that the headmaster had used it to somehow _entice_ the boy. Quirrel was one of the professors to provide a challenge to the gauntlet to retrieve the stone, and Harry and both men discussed the matter at length before coming up with a plan.

So, here Harry was, staring at the glass with only one thought in mind; how to retrieve the stone. Since the reflective surface was meant to show one's heart's desire, the raven logically concluded that he must _desire_ obtaining the stone, for the mirror to show him how to do just that. Ebon eyebrows flew into his hairline in surprise when he saw his reflection self pocket the stone, his own pocket suddenly gaining weight.

"So _that's_ how he did it," the raven murmured with admiration. "That sly old fox. Well, now that I have the stone, I can give it to Tom so that he may resurrect himself. I'm thankful that I got to him early enough to prevent him drinking unicorn's blood. Wouldn't want Quirrel to suffer the curse of a half-life in order to keep Tom in the realm of the living."

After that first visit, Harry had cajoled his father into creating a potion that would help Quirrel survive the possession until such time as the Dark Lord was able to obtain the stone and resurrect himself. Now that Harry had the stone, it was only a matter of time before Lord Voldemort returned to the realm of the living. "I can't wait to see what he's going to do this time around."

* * *

"Here's the stone, Tom," Harry said as he placed it on the coffee table between them. It was the day before the students were to return to Hogwarts, and the only time that the raven could come see his friend. Dumbledore had set the house elves to spy on him, and they were able to see through his invisibility cloak effortlessly. So, in order to be able to give the stone to his friend, he had to wait until the elves would be busy preparing the castle for re-population. Therefore, they decided to meet the day before the students' return, so that they could be assured that there would be no interruptions.

Quirrel picked up the stone and smiled, sliding it into a robe pocket. "Will you continue to teach?" Harry asked the other man softly.

"I would like to," the professor replied. "I think I can slowly reduce the stuttering, in the guise that I feel 'much safer' behind the school's wards."

"Where will you resurrect yourself, Tom?" the preteen queried. Quirrel turned and allowed Voldemort to look at the boy.

"I am thinking that I can use the Chamber of Secrets," he told the child with a smirk. "Since it is not, technically, part of the school, anything done down there would not register with the wards. I'd explored it whilst I was a student, and I found Salazar Slytherin's private quarters down there. That would be the perfect place to create my homunculus and embody it."

"Do you need any help?" Harry asked eagerly.

"I might have use for you," Tom told the child with a grin. "I will probably need you to obtain supplies for me, and perhaps Severus would like to help me with this, as well."

"Father's still kind of iffy on the prospect of you coming back," Harry told his friend softly. "He remembers what you were like before you 'died', and doesn't want to return to that."

"I understand his fears, Harry," Tom answered with a grimace. "I will make a wizard's oath, if that will ease his mind. I would like Lucius and he to help me with this, as well as assisting me in accomplishing my goals more _sanely_."

"I'll talk to them, and let you know soon."


	8. Chapter 8

**Eight**

"How are you doing, Tom?" Harry asked softly as he entered Slythern's quarters in the Chamber of Secrets. Riddle had, with Harry's help, finally finished setting up everything he needed to use the stone. The basilisk was asleep in the far tunnels; Tom would bond with her as his familiar as soon as he obtained his own body. Professor Quirrel had taken the turban off as soon as the raven had entered the living room, allowing Tom to be able to talk with him.

"I've been better, Harry," the Dark Lord murmured. "Thank you for all of your help. As soon as I'm whole again, I'll take over as DADA professor, with a little help from Severus."

"I'm looking forward to it," Harry said, smiling. An honest smile, that twisted his face into new, horrifying shapes which had scared many of the students within the halls of the school. Tom, however, cherished those honest smiles, and was _gratified_ that he could bring that sort of happiness to the beleaguered boy. There were a scant handful of people able to make the raven _truly _happy, and Voldemort cherished the thought that he was one on that very short list.

"Can you tell me what's wrong?" the preteen asked with some concern. Riddle's voice sounded fragile and slow, and not like his usual bold, confident self.

"I'm getting weaker, as is Quirrel," he responded after a long moment of thought. He was unused to confessing his failings, fearing that those who learned of them would use them against him, but he _trusted _Harry. Trusted that he wouldn't hurt Tom no matter _what _happened. The single emerald eye sharpened with concern, and Riddle rushed to comfort the child, _another_ thing he would never have done.

"Do not worry so, little one," he said in answer to the look of anxiety that passed over the scarred child's face. "Severus' elixir has done its job well, keeping me going until I could complete the ritual. It's just been a bit of a strain on my host, and as his body wears down, so do I."

"Is there anything I may do to help you?" Harry queried softly, willing to do just about_ anything_ to protect his mentor and friend. At the negative shake of Quirrel's head, the boy subsided only slightly, disquiet still in his guarded emerald eye. "When do you think you'll be able to complete the ritual?"

"I'll be making the switch this weekend, before the end of the school year," he said, the excitement in his voice barely restrained. The Snape heir brightened considerably at the joy in the Dark Lord's voice, relieved that he wasn't _too_ diminished. "I wish for Severus and Lucius to be here, so that I may thank them in person for their invaluable assistance."

The ritual to be used had come from an old Dark Arts manuscript in Lucius' library. He and Severus had met with Voldemort in March, and had made peace with the man then. The ritual, itself, was vastly different from the one that Tom had considered, should he not be able to obtain the stone. That point was moot, however; Riddle was looking forward to not turning himself into a caricature of a human being.

Severus had contributed a variety of restorative draughts, to help the Dark Lord's new body reabsorb all of his magic without coming apart. The horcruxes had been reabsorbed, as well. Tom had used an ancient ritual to call all of his soul fragments to him, and he endured seventy two hours of pain, suffering, and remorse for all of his sins before his soul was stitched back together. The only piece that hadn't been called was the one in Harry; the raven had used his not inconsiderable power to maintain his hold on the small fragment. He'd come to see Tom as an uncle, and didn't want to part with the piece of him that had been a part of Harry's life from infancy.

"I'll be sure that they come on Saturday, Tom," the raven told the other man softly. "How are you going to become defense teacher? Dumbledore's _got _to remember what you look like."

"That's fairly simple, little one," Riddle replied with a smirk. "I can tinker with the ritual, to change some parts of my appearance so that I can look _passingly_ similar to myself in my youth, but different enough that he won't realize it's really _me._"

* * *

The ritual was a success, and Severus and Lucius were standing before their Lord, heads bowed in subjugation. Though whilst on the back of the defense teacher's head things had been rather informal, now that the Dark Lord was whole again, both man figured that things would go back to normal. Though neither Malfoy nor Snape were _happy_ about the return of their slavery, they were nevertheless heartened by the affection that Voldemort had expressed for Harry.

Suddenly, without warning, both men fell to their knees, right hands gripping their left forearms as they hissed and whimpered in pain. Harry made to go to them, to _help_ them, but Tom held the raven back as his ruby eyes glowed with his renewed power. The restorative draughts had done their jobs very well; Riddle breathed deeply and felt his vast well of magic churning in his core. The pain had lasted only moments, but it had weakened both wizards, and it was a few long moments before they could shakily climb to their feet.

"Thank you, gentlemen, for your continued faith in me," Riddle murmured with a small smile. "Your invaluable assistance has earned a reward, and this was the only thing that I could give you and felt you deserved for your support." He nodded his head at Severus' left arm, and the Potions Master lost no time in shoving his robe sleeve up, staring blankly at the clear, unblemished skin of his forearm. Lucius gaped stupidly at Severus' arm, before shoving his _own _sleeve up his left arm, a small whimper of shock escaping him.

Snape flowed down to one knee, head bowed and right fist over his heart. "On my magic, I commit my mind, heart, body and soul to you, Tom Marvolo Riddle, and claim you brother of my heart. So mote it be." A bright flare of golden magic encompassed both men, shocking the everloving daylights out of the Dark Lord. Riddle smiled as he felt some of Severus' magic and essence settle within his soul. When Lucius knelt and did the same, tears began to fall from ruby eyes at the complete devotion and, dare he think it, _love_ that emanated from the vows.

"Thank you, gentlemen," Tom husked out, tears falling freely from his eyes. He knelt and repeated the same vow to both men, completing the circle and solidifying Harry's family in a more permanent way.

"Well," the raven said into the reverent silence, "_that_ was thoroughly unexpected."

* * *

"_Sanguinem et sanguinem, Patrinus ad necabo secaboque," _the Potions Master murmured as he invoked the godfather ritual. Harry stood on one side of the ritual circle, while Tom stood on the other. Both were enveloped in ruby flames as the vow took hold, naming Tom Marvolo Riddle godfather to Harry James Snape. Once completed, Harry flew into the other man's arms, burrowing deeply into the hug he had been longing for since he first began to talk with Voldemort.

Tom, once again, was openly weeping happy tears, his emotions _still_ unstable even a month after the ritual. They were in Malfoy Manor, where Lucius had introduced Tom to his wife and son. Draco was shocked stupid at the thought of the Dark Lord in his house, and he was slightly afraid of the man and his motives and plans for the blond's family. He was _also _hacked off that Harry hadn't told him _anything _about meeting with the Dark Lord.

"I'm sorry about that, Draco," the scarred boy said, emerald eye sad. "I didn't mean to exclude you. It's just that Tom and I sort of _fell_ into this by _accident_, and it didn't even _occur_ to me to include you."

"That's purely my fault, Draco," Tom said into the weighted silence. "I didn't want Harry to say anything to anyone else until I could be free of Quirrel. I was afraid that someone _else _would find out and either try to stop me, or hurt _Harry_. What he did was incredibly _dangerous_, and I convinced him that the fewer people who knew, the safer it was, for _everyone_."

"All _right_," the blond boy groused, a pout on his face. "I suppose it _was _for the best. Next time, though, you _tell_ me what you're doing, so I can _help_."

* * *

"Happy birthday, Harry," Draco chirped, loudly and joyfully, as the raven entered the dining room. The table was decked out with all sorts of delicious foods, and in the center was a _massive_ birthday cake. It was a five layer monstrosity, covered with thick fudge icing and decorated with all manner of candied fruits. Around the table sat all of his Hogwarts friends. His Slytherins sat on one side of the table, and his Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff friends sat on the other.

The tension was a bit thick as each side warily eyed the other. The other three Houses were uncomfortable at the sight of so many Slytherins, and it looked like Harry's birthday celebration would be ruined. The Weasley twins came to the rescue, setting off a few fireworks and startling laughter and squeals from the rest of the children. The atmosphere lightened considerably, and Harry went around the table, chatting with everyone.

No one seemed to really notice, or _recognize_ the tall dark man with red eyes amongst the adults supervising the party. With a decidedly devilish smirk, the raven made introductions. "Cedric, Zach, Nev, Parvati, Padma, Fred, George, I'd like you to meet my godfather, Tom Riddle." The Dark Lord nodded his head to each child, smiling as they obliviously nodded back or shook his hand.

Gasps from the Slytherins had the others turning around and looking at them curiously. The shocked, fearful looks on the snakes' faces worried everyone for a moment, before, as one, they knelt on one knee, fists over their hearts. "My Lord," they murmured with one voice, shocking the other students badly. With _eeps_ of fear, the rest of the guests backed away from Lord Voldemort, making the man chuckle.

"Is there a problem?" Harry asked mischievously.

* * *

"What's the _Dark Lord_ doing here?" Blaise asked incredulously. After the very uncomfortable luncheon, the kids made their hasty escape, sitting near the quidditch pitch, far enough away from the house so that none of the adults could overhear.

"He's my godfather, Blaise," Harry said with a happy smile. "Why _wouldn't _he be here?"

"But...but he's _He Who Must Not Be Named_," Padma squeaked, hands going to her mouth to cover it a moment later.

"His _name_ is _Tom_," Draco told everyone. "_Yes_, he _is_ the Dark Lord, but only for the rest of the wizarding world. To _us_, he's uncle Tom."

"Boy, doesn't _that_ sound bad," Millie mumbled. Every eye was on her, and she blushed furiously for a moment. "When I was learning muggle history, I learned about North America and their use of slaves. One of the racist slurs used against the men was calling them 'uncle Tom'. It just sounds _wrong_, based on what I learned."

"Fair enough," Fred said thoughtfully, the idea that they were talking about the _Dark Lord_ lost for the moment. "If he has a middle name, we could probably use _that_."

"I'll ask him," Harry told everyone with a grin, making his face bunch up into different shapes because of the scars. It was a few more moments of contemplative silence before the original topic was pounced upon once again.

"The Dark Lord, Harry?" Theo questioned, his voice sounding like he was questioning his friend's sanity.

"He and I had some long, interesting conversations while he was riding on the back of professor Quirrel's head during school," the raven said thoughtfully. "Anchoring to Quirrel's soul seemed to clear his head a little, and we discussed regaining his body using the Philosopher's stone. So I retrieved it for him, and, with Dad's and uncle Lucius' help, he was able to become whole again. He's decided to bring the Dark into the light, so to speak, by putting the Dark in charge of everything."

"What about the Light wizards and witches?" Cedric asked softly. "Will they be outcasts?"

"Not if they don't interfere," Tom said from behind the group, startling them. "I don't wish to segregate magical affinity; I just want the Dark to be seen as just as equal and just as _necessary_ as the Light."

"After all," Harry chimed in, "how do you know what's Light, without the Dark?"

* * *

The godfather ritual is in Latin, and it translates thusly:  
_sanguinem et sanguinem_-blood to blood  
_Patrinus ad necabo secaboque_-godfather to little son (godson)


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **I wish to say thank you to all of the people who wrote to give me their condolences. It wasn't a bad review; I don't care about those. I think they're hilarious. No, it was a _threatening_ review, promising to post my stuff on other sites with the sole intent of sending harassing emails my way. My username was the same as my email. I changed it and my email for this site to protect myself. Also, daithi4377 has given me a good idea for this chapter. Thanks a bunch!

* * *

**NINE**

All was silent in courtroom ten as the plaintiff and defendant entered the room from doors on opposite sides of the chamber. Harry took his seat at the plaintiff's table, his face lit by the harsh glow of many sconces lining the walls. His scars stood out in graphic relief as he stared stonily ahead, paying no heed to the whispers and murmurs that ebbed and flowed behind him. Dumbledore sat at the defendant's table with his law wizard. He glanced every now and then at Harry, a disappointed look in his blue eyes as he stared at the child over his half moon spectacles. The raven bore with it indifferently; he _knew_ that the old man had not a leg on which to stand.

The trial had finally been rescheduled for August fifteenth; Albus had used his not inconsiderable connections in the Ministry to submit delay after delay, forcing the Wizengamot to push back the trial further and further. It was Albus' hope that the suit would be unimportant enough to be dropped altogether; that the boy would lose hope and just forget about it. Unfortunately, the headmaster had not counted on the vindictive rage that the boy had for him, and so here they were.

"All rise," the court Auror said loudly. "The honorable Amelia Bones, assistant chief witch of the Wizengamot presiding." The woman entered from behind the benches on which the jurists would sit, her monocle firmly in place. She stood before her chair, staring everyone down before her eyes fell on Harry. She gave him the kindest smile she'd _ever_ given since her sister had been killed, making the raven relax for the first time since entering the courtroom. He returned the smile with one of his own, and the observers murmured once again at the sight of his face all bunched up and twisted. The smile disappeared almost instantly, leaving a blank visage behind.

"That's enough!" Amelia snapped as she glared out over the crowd. "We decided to make this an open hearing, so that everyone could see Albus Dumbledore's sins laid bare. If you cannot respect the participants of the hearing, and hold a little _sympathy_ and _compassion_ for what this child has endured since he was _fifteen months old_, then I will have the Aurors clear the courtroom. _Is that understood?_" Suitably cowed, the spectators subsided, feeling ashamed of themselves at the fact that the boy had suffered grievous harm, and they were making a spectacle of him.

"Now, state your case, and I expect _both sides_ to comport themselves with honor and respect. Harry Snape, you may begin."

* * *

The trial was adjudicated in Harry's favor. No one, except perhaps Albus himself, was surprised at the ruling. Harry was granted two million galleons in damages, and was given the property in Mold on the Wold. Albus was handed down several sanctions, which carried severe penalties should they be violated. He was not to call Harry to his office anymore; if he had matters to discuss about the boy's schooling, he was to speak to Severus. He was not to attempt to involve the child in _any_ sort of 'extracurricular activities'. Anything in which the child was asked to participate had to be cleared by his father first.

Albus was to remain at a minimum of twenty feet away from Harry at all times, unless in a situation where that would be impossible. This meant that Dumbledore had to take _all_ of his meals in his office, with professor McGonagall taking over in the Great Hall during mealtimes and other student-related meetings. Dumbledore was not permitted to assign _any_ punishments for infractions of the rules; should this come to pass, the task would be performed by the Head of House that presided over whichever witness reported the infraction.

The headmaster was not to interfere in any way, shape, or form with the boy's curriculum, and it was strongly suggested that he not target Harry's friends to try and influence the child to his way of thinking. In other words, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was to keep his long crooked nose out of Harry Snape's business.

Feeling lighter since the trial, Harry started talking more and more with his godfather, wanting to learn all that the man had seen on his travels. It was during one of these conversations that Harry asked a rather interesting query. "You took the Dark Mark from Father and Lucius," he said early one afternoon a few days before the start of second year. "Are you going to do the same for the rest of your recruits?"

"You know, that's a very good question," Riddle replied thoughtfully. He had given all of the kids permission to call him Marvolo, understanding the negative connotations that 'uncle Tom' had, but Harry insisted on calling him Tom. He never put the 'uncle' in front of it; he saw the man as a beloved mentor and friend, as well as a really good substitute father. After all, the man _was_ named godfather for a _reason_. "I'm not sure that I wish to 'free' the other recruits like I did with your father and uncle, but I _do_ believe I should change the parameters of the Mark. Do you have any ideas?"

"Well, I was thinking that you could make it look more like a natural tattoo. Give it a different appearance for each member, and put it in different places on the body. That way, whenever these men are out and about without robes and in short sleeves, people won't automatically see that they're Death Eaters. The more we can fly under the radar, the easier it will be to finally take the wizarding world for ourselves."

"That's a really good idea, Harry," Tom praised with a smile. "Perhaps we can use animagus forms for some of the designs, for those who are animagi; for others, we can use family crests or favorite pets. Still others can be portraits of loved ones. We can even use family mottoes and favorite literary passages for some of the Dark Marks."

"That's a lot of magic to be expending, Tom," Harry said worriedly. "Are you sure you want to do that for _all_ of them?"

"We'll need to get rid of the more bloodthirsty ones, for sure," Tom told the boy reassuringly. "That will cut down the organization by _half_. Some may wish to leave on their own if they don't like the direction the organization is going. I'll just have to wait and see what happens after I announce the changes."

"What about Parkinson?" Harry questioned softly. "Will he still be a part of your outfit?"

"No," Riddle said with conviction. "I did not appreciate in the _least_ how that man saw you, nor how his reprehensible daughter _shamed_ you, even if it was only for a _moment_. As soon as your father and Lucius told me about it, I removed the Mark from Parkinson and obliviated his most recent memories of my rebirth. I will do everything in my power to see you safe and protected."

"Thank you, Tom," the raven said, relieved. "I love you."

* * *

Two days before the kids had to be at the Hogwarts Express, a nondescript brown owl sailed into the Manor through the owl entrance. It landed before Harry, its leg held out. Before he could even touch the missive, wands were out and scanning the post for any spells, jinxes, hexes or curses. Once everyone had assured the letter's safety, Harry pulled it from the owl's leg, absently giving it a few pieces of roast beef while he opened the envelope. He pulled the parchment out and unfolded it, emerald eye glancing at the owl, which hadn't moved from its spot on the table. "Must need a reply," he murmured as his emerald orb scanned the missive.

_Dear Harry,_

_You may not remember me, but I surely remember you. I am Remus Lupin, and I was best friends with your father and mother. I was not in the country the night that they died, and for that I will be forever sorry. Had I been there, you would never have gone with Hagrid to be dumped on Petunia's doorstep._

_I also knew about Lily's sister, and I knew that she had never wanted you to live with that bitch. She would never have wanted you to live with the Malfoys, either. Harry, they are not nice people. They follow an evil man who had killed your parents. You need to get away from them as fast as you can. When their master comes back, they will turn you over to him for the promise of rewards for their loyalty. You can't listen to them. You can't believe them. They don't want to protect you; they want to **kill** you._

_The owl will bring me your response. Please give me the apparition coordinates where you are staying, and I'll get there as soon as possible and take you away before they can **really** hurt you. I only want what's best for you. I have some friends with whom you can stay; people whom you can trust with your life. **Please**, let me save you the way I couldn't save your parents._

_I love you._

_Moony_

Harry handed off the letter to his father; at the same time he summoned a house elf to fetch him parchment and ink. The snarl to his left alerted him that both his father and Lucius had finished reading, and he turned to them with a smirk. "Don't worry, Dad, uncle Lucius. I have absolutely _no intention_ of letting that man get _near_ me."

_Mr. Lupin,_

_You say that you were my parents' friend and yet I have no recollection of you at all. You say you love me, and yet never did anything to figure out where I was or even if I was **safe** for ten years. I suspect that you discovered with whom I live by spying on me at the station in my first year. What happened? Too cowardly to come and talk to me face to face? Too ashamed of letting my birth parents down by not **being** there when they needed you most? When **I **needed you most?_

_You are not a part of my life, and you never were. The Harry Potter that you knew as an infant is **gone**. He died the night I was abandoned on a stranger's doorstep to be ripped to shreds by a stray dog. I want **no part** of the Light, nor do I fancy myself **savior**. I will not be extending myself for **anyone**, other than my family and close friends. The rest of you can all burn in Hell for all I care._

_Do not **ever** contact me again. You mean **nothing** to me. You **are** nothing to me. The people I now live with, and have lived with since I was fifteen months old, are the **only** family I **want**, or **need**. **They** were there when I needed them most, and they will **always** be here. Not even **death** could keep them away, I suspect._

_So your empty promises of a happy life have fallen on deaf ears. Your hope that you can reacquaint me with my parents through **you** is a wasted dream. I know all I need about my parents, and though they are gone from me, they will always live in my heart. I am **happy** now, and I'll not have you come in and interfere with that. Consider this your **only warning**; should you make **any** moves to try and wrest me from my family, I will make you **rue** the day you were ever **born**._

_Harry Snape_


End file.
